A String of Beads (Jane Whitefield, #8)(48)

“There’s the sign for Route Eleven up ahead.”

“I see it. Hold on.” Jane sped to the intersection and turned right without signaling, then accelerated away from the intersection down Route 11 to the south. She glanced in the rearview mirrors frequently as she drove.

Jimmy said, “Do you think the guys in that SUV could have caught up with us this quickly?”

“No, but I’m sure they could dial a cell phone this quickly to tell their friends where we’re likely to be. If you don’t mind, take a look behind us and memorize the cars. We’ll be away from the city lights in a few minutes, so study the way their headlights look, too. If anybody stays with us too long, or adjusts his speed just to keep us in sight, tell me.”

“Headlights? Just two lights.”

“They’re all different. Brightness, height from the ground, and so on. Look especially at SUVs, since that’s what just tried to force us off the road.”

Jimmy turned around in his seat and stared for a few minutes. “We’ve got a few candidates, but nothing conclusive. Two SUVs. One black, like the one on the interstate, and the other light gray. There’s a white pickup. Looks like a Ford 250 with big tires, a yellow VW, a little red Fiat, and a—nope, that one dropped out at the Walmart.”

“Good. That’s what I see, too. The VW and the Fiat are almost certainly harmless.”

“Agreed.”

“The white pickup we should keep an eye on, but usually what we have to fear from those guys is that they’ll drive so aggressively that they’ll kill us by accident. By the way, it’s a good idea to look for women.”

“You mean woman drivers?”

“Anywhere in the vehicle. There are a lot of bad things to be said about women, but they don’t get into this kind of work much. If you see a woman in any of the cars, we can pretty safely take it off the list.”

“That leaves the two SUVs.”

“Watch them for signs that we have a problem.”

“I’m watching. What am I looking for?”

“Signs that they’re trying to deceive us. Sometimes two cars will follow you by taking turns. One drops so far behind that you forget it exists, while the other keeps you in sight. Then they switch, so you don’t start wondering about the one you can see. When you see the first one again, you think it’s new. Sometimes a follower will get ahead of you for a while so you think you’re following them. Nobody who tries to fool you has a nice reason for it.”

Jimmy looked at her for a moment, then out the back window. “Did you know these things by instinct when you started, or have they all happened to you?”

“I’ve spent a lot of years helping people who are running away. All of them have someone chasing them. The important thing is to learn to trust yourself. If you look at anything—a car, a house, a person—and it seems a little off, avoid it. Simple.”

Jimmy stared out the rear window. “I brought this on by making that call home to my mother. I’m regretting it every minute. But I’m not sure I’ll see the next mistake before I make it.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Jane said. “The trick is to be alert. Always look for a way to improve the odds in your favor.”

“Those two SUVs are still back there.”

“I know,” she said. “I don’t like it either.”

Jane drove on. Route 11 became less heavily traveled as the hour grew late. The road moved away from the city into a rural landscape, and then narrowed to two lanes. When they went through a town it was always small, with darkened business signs and traffic signals that blinked yellow over deserted intersections. As they passed one that looked no different from the others, things changed abruptly.

A pair of black SUVs similar to the one that had attacked them on the interstate pulled into the road a few hundred yards ahead. One came from a driveway to Jane’s right that ran like a bridge over a small stream in a ditch beside the road. The other emerged from the lot in front of a gas station on the left. They met like doors closing across the road.

“Trouble,” she said. She hit her high beam headlights, bathing the two cars in light, and steered her car toward the spot just behind the car that had come over the ditch.

“There’s a ditch on that side,” Jimmy said. When nothing changed he said, “Jane. A ditch.”

“I see it.”

She held the wheel in both hands, still steering straight at the rear of the car blocking the right lane. “Make sure your seat belt is tight, but keep your head low. Remember the other one shot at us.”

Jimmy slumped lower, so he could barely see over the dashboard.

Jane sped up slightly, aiming her car at the SUV on the right. She could see a head in the front side window turned toward her. The man in the driver’s seat had the best view, and he was getting frightened. His eyes were open wide and he gripped the steering wheel tightly. Jane altered her aim slightly, just enough so her car would look to him like a projectile streaking straight for him.

Finally, he panicked. He threw his transmission into reverse and backed up quickly. He seemed to have forgotten how narrow the driveway was. His left set of tires found their way onto the driveway, but the right set slipped off into the ditch, and the vehicle tipped onto its side.

Jane swerved, but not toward the space that had opened between the two SUVs. She aimed at the remaining vehicle and sped up again. She adjusted her aim to be sure that if she hit anything, it would be the passenger door.